


The Boys are Back in Town

by sewerkingcharlie



Category: It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia
Genre: Alcohol, Cute Ending, Domesticity, Drabble, Engagement, First Kiss, Fluff, Gay Feelings, Gays say ‘I love you’, M/M, References past episode, S6E2 Dennis Gets Divorced Parallel, Short One Shot, This is just some cute thing I wrote in one sitting idk enjoy some fluff, Title based on the song, drunk decisions, i love these dumbasses, set after s14
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:08:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26243923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sewerkingcharlie/pseuds/sewerkingcharlie
Summary: Mac and Dennis get piss-ass drunk, and for once, they have a perfect, perfect evening.“I’m not drunk,” Dennis slurred with a goofy smile, reaching a hand up to clumsily cup Mac’s cheek. “I... I’m more sober than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”
Relationships: Mac McDonald/Dennis Reynolds, MacDennis
Comments: 7
Kudos: 71





	The Boys are Back in Town

Dennis was drunk. So was Mac. Completely fucking wasted. They were singing, dancing around the apartment, happy. And that sort of drunken state had become a considerable rarity, so they grabbed it by the balls and had a good time. 

They’d recorded a Project Badass tape, they’d watched Predator and talked about body mass for the entire movie, they’d made bizarre cocktails out of the booze in their cupboards. They were letting themselves be in their twenties again, despite being in their forties, and they were enjoying every last second of it.

It was pushing midnight when Dennis had pushed himself up from his lying position on the sofa, removing his head from Mac’s lap with a new wave of energy. 

“Music, we gotta— gotta have some music, bro,” he gesticulated, standing up on stumbling legs. He slapped his face gently with his hands, trying to wake himself up, before grinning, trying to pull Mac up.

“I’m _comfy_ , Den...” Mac whined, flopping his arm back to the sofa. “C—come back, that was nice, bro...”

Dennis rolled his eyes. “Music, it— music, we can’t be nice drunk and, and not like, have music,” he explained. “Pretty please stand up.”

“Ugh...” Mac groaned. “Jus’... put music on yourself, dude...”

“But I wanna dance.”

“I’m _cosy_!—”

“Come on! Get up, get up, get up,” Dennis stepped forwards, holding his hands out to Mac, taking them in his. “Get up.”

Mac scowled loosely at Dennis, and rolled his eyes, trying to silently will him to come back, and cuddle again. Dennis persisted, and leaned closer, trying to pull Mac’s weight off the sofa. 

“Dude,” Mac sighed, looking at him with half-serious eyes. “I’m comfy, jus’— come back a m-minute...”

Dennis raised an eyebrow, then squinted, then leaned closer. And closer, and closer still, until his lips met Mac’s. Mac had frozen in shock for a long moment, before squeezing the hands that were in Dennis’ still, kissing him back. 

Dennis pulled back. He giggled, drunkenly, before batting Mac’s shoulder, looking at his dumbfounded face with a grin. “Music.” 

Mac opened and closed his mouth, eyes wide and sparkling, a flush creeping onto his cheeks. “Y-yeah. Uh huh. Music.” He wasted no time in scrambling to his feet, following Dennis to the CD player. He felt giddy and drunk and happy as fuck, breaking into a flustered smile about thirty seconds later. 

Dennis put on one of their mixes, one that Dennis played in the car if he was feeling forgiving on a day allocated to his music choice. The music turned up, fresh cans of beer were cracked open, and they danced, and it was nice, and they were smiling, catching each other’s eye with a glimmer every few moments.

They drank more. They danced more. More raucous and lively and authentically Mac and Dennis by the second. They danced closer, they danced stupidly, and then they weren’t dancing, they were kissing. And they didn’t stop, not for a long time. Innocent kisses with smiling lips and bumping noses, drunken stumbles and 90s music. Laughing, gently, mumbling in between, breaking to dance more. It’s not the sort of relaxed and gentle atmosphere either men ever expected their first kiss to be surrounded by, but neither were complaining. 

Thin Lizzy started playing, and Mac grinned infectiously against Dennis’ lips, peppering a few short pecks, before reaching for his beer and taking a swig. 

“The _boyyys_ are back in town!” He sung, putting the can clumsily down on the coffee table and turning back to Dennis, who threw his arms around Mac in a drunken, happy hug. 

“Asshole, I— I was kissing you...” Dennis mumbled, faux-grumpily, to which Mac laughed, lovestruck and stupid.

“I gotta sing th-this song, dude—” Mac defended, but Dennis cut him off with a kiss, cupping Mac’s cheeks. Mac felt his chest explode in sleepy butterflies, arms hovering in cluelessness as his consciousness focused on kissing Dennis back, before resting on his waist. 

And then, they kissed more. And they didn’t break for dancing, and they didn’t sing along any more, because they were far too preoccupied, making up for thirty years of lost time, thirty years with no kisses, thirty years of unspoken tension. It felt so right, and so special. Like the first kiss between two teenagers behind the school bike shed, and also like the hundredth kiss of a married couple, all amalgamated into one evening, one feeling. 

Dennis leapt back after a solid few minutes, a grin on his face, holding up his hands in an excited gesticulation.

Mac frowned, and tries to go back to kiss him, but Dennis put a finger to his lips, then span around in drunken giddiness. “Marriage!” He barked, elated and sudden.

Mac blinked. “... What— What did you say?” His lips parted.

“I will marry you, Mac,” Dennis specified, hands talking an equal amount to him. “I— I’ll do it.”

Mac’s eyebrows upturned, and his chest erupted in a green, shimmery sort of glitter, that clung to his skin and hair and clothes. Half of him didn’t believe it, and that half of him took over his speech, and tried to be rational.

“Okay... You’re drunk...” Mac said slowly, although his facial expression was just as struck with emotion. “Why— why don’t we just go to bed? And- and think on it—?”

“I’m not drunk,” Dennis slurred with a goofy smile, reaching a hand up to clumsily cup Mac’s cheek. “I... I’m more sober than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”

Mac snorted a gentle laugh. Leaned into the touch. Blushed.

“Okay, okay I’m a little bit drunk, but my mind is totally sober,” Dennis waved Mac’s dubious laugh off. “And my mind’s telling me the following...” he licked his lips nervously. “I love you, Mac.”

Mac blinked again, eyebrows inclining so far up, they practically touched the heavens. His eyes glistened.

“I love you,” Dennis continued, because he may as well. “I _always_ loved you. I mean, sure, you’re annoying and... and yeah! You’re— you’re strange, but I...” Dennis trailed off, words lost in a drunken haze of adrenaline and love.

Mac’s hand reached up, hovering in a fumbling manner around Dennis’ shoulder, face, hair.

“I don’t know what to say...” He whispered, eyes wide and almost glazed from the overwhelming nature of the situation.

“Say yes—”

Mac crushed his lips to Dennis’, cupping his face with intoxicatedly clumsy hands. “Yes,” he mumbled against Dennis’ smiling lips. “Yes, yes— a trillion fucking times yes...”

Dennis kissed him back. And they kissed some more. They stumbled to the sofa and kissed there, they drank more beer and kissed in the kitchen, they danced some more and then kissed some more, stumbling into Dennis’ bedroom by three that morning. And they didn’t bang, they didn’t even mess around. They just kissed, lazy and tired and comfy. Mac was wearing a piece of dental floss, tied around his ring finger, and Dennis was wearing a Hula Hoop chip on his. 

They fell asleep like that, fully dressed and drunk with their makeshift wedding rings. And when they woke up, they could both only remember remnants of the night before, but as they pieced it together over Tylenol and a cup of tea, they remembered; and, in doing so, realised why Mac’s finger was turning purple from dental floss. 

Neither of them took it back. Neither of them looked at each other with annoyance or hatred.

“So, we’re like, totally gay together and stuff now?” Mac asked with a grin, hair sticking out at all angles as he sipped tea at the kitchen table. 

“Officially,” Dennis shrugged with apparent confidence, feigning a casual voice, even though his stomach aching in a warm, whole way as his God hole shrivelled up a little smaller. “Gay together, engaged genre.”

“That’s sweet,” Mac said, in the same, fake-casual way. “Wanna kiss?—”

“Yes,” Dennis said, barely giving Mac the chance to finish his sentence. He leaned across the table and cupped his face and kissed him, sweetly, eyes fluttered shut. 

Mac kissed back, because of course he did, head tilted up towards Dennis’ as his heart pounded in sober excitement. 

“I...” He mumbled, breaking the kiss. “I love you too.”

Dennis quirked an eyebrow, and laughed quietly. “I didn’t say anything— but, y’know, for the record...”

“I didn’t say it back last night,” Mac said, explained, pinching Dennis’ cheek gently. 

“You literally said you’d marry me,” Dennis deadpanned. “I think that counts.”

“Whatever dude, irrelevant,” Mac waved him off. “Let me say it. I love you.”

Dennis smiled in a small, wonky, goofy and private fashion, lips stretching and cheeks balling into his line of vision. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking into his cup of tea. “Love you too, dumbass.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am in the process of writing an angsty as fuck one shot and needed a break so kinda just splurged this into my notes app this evening and decided I like it enough to share here ✨ I hope you enjoyed this mindless fluff


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